


Break the world

by KagariHomura



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Pseudo Historical nonsense, Slight Choking, bakura calling himself apep for the sake of being ostentatious, brattiness and pheramones, canon i dont know her, glorified death mentions, nobody actually dies and it's barely smut, seto as set
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 16:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KagariHomura/pseuds/KagariHomura
Summary: The Pharaoh was meant to be an alpha. When it turns out he isn't, he gets salty and the Thief King gets creatively rude.





	1. Personal Hell

**Author's Note:**

> So this is literally the first fanfiction I've ever written in my life and it's ridiculous, but the YGO big bang has always been awesome for giving the fandom a huge influx of fun new stuff so I wanted to contribute even if it was just a little! Also this fic is largely unbetad, and formatted horribly because I've never posted anything here in my life and have no clue what I'm doing ayyy

Everything in Egypt had it's place. If you were to ask someone who knew, who had been there; you'd be told that the Gods never left anything unchecked. The idea that there was something biological that could define you other than what you knew was a maddening concept, but the 'secondary biology' went as accepted by the people of Kemet as the seasons themselves.  
The majority of civilians were tested at the age of ten, taken into the sprawling capitol city of Waset to be tested by the High Priest of the Pharaoh himself. It was a day of celebration, and families would hold thier heads high no matter the news. Surely there were those who rejected thier newfound place in society, but most were greatful.  
The betas were the most common, taking all sorts of roles in Egypt. Shopkeepers, scribes, farmers, and beggars. You'd find betas among each caste and walk of life. Betas weren't considered lower class like omegas or expected to rise above the rest like an Alpha, and even some of the Royal council themselves were of the Beta classification.  
Naturally, those of Royal blood were expected to be Alphas, one of the rarer classifications. Alphas were the peak of perfection, and thier rarity in society only helped to further that belief. The first reported Alpha was a Pharaoh, and it was thought that the alpha gene was handed down by Horus himself. Being tested as an alpha meant your place in society was assured, and you were often given a job that reflected your higher status. It was rare to be an alpha, but not completely unheard of.  
The final classification and the rarest of all was that of the omega, a peculiar class that would go into heat regardless of gender. Omegas gave off pheramones during this heat that would send any Alphas nearby into an uncontrollable lust, and if they were bitten on the neck during the act of intimacy they would be bound to that Alpha forever. Omegas lived hard lives, often finding work in the harem if they were lucky, and it wasn't strange to see them selling thier bodies in poorer villages. Despite being rare, the omega classification was the least desirable by people. To be an omega meant you were snubbed and looked down upon, no matter who you were.  
Since he was young, Atem had grown up hearing of these things in preperation for his ascent onto the throne some day. He was told by his advisors and his father all his life that he would most likely present as an Alpha, as his father had before him. He looked forward to the test, as all children did, and his father had offered to administer it personally so as to be the first to share the assured good news with the rest of Egypt.  
Nobody except the innermost council knows fully what went on that day, the test results and ensuing festival stated that the young prince was indeed an alpha, though nobody was ever shown the scroll with his official results. By the time he became King it had all but been forgotten, his classification in society set by birth with no need to question it. Unfortunately, some tales start with a bang rather than a whisper.  
This particular tale began with a crash and a shatter in one of the most guarded buildings in the heart of the capitol city. The Pharaoh was grown now, the events of his past buried deep in the recesses of his mind where they stayed overshadowed by the duties he was to perform. It was the night of a grand festival, the streets alive with merriment and joy. The drink flowed free enough and for once even the Priests had found thier way into the heart of the crowd to join them.  
Waset seemed as a beating heart was for just one night, unified and rhythmic save for one man. This man moved like a ghost through the streets, powered by fire, blood, and fury. It was hard to argue through the tales of him that he was even human, and upon hearing them he would happily agree with the speculation. Kemet treated him like a God in his own right, and it suited his arrogance to feel on par with the Pharaoh himself.  
He often found the secondary biology to be something of a cruel joke, but he couldn't deny it gave him something to brag about. To think that the sole survivor of a massacre of thieves and beggars was an Alpha? He imagined it really did put him as high as the God-King himself. At the very least he'd love to see the look on the faces of the smug priests in the palace as he hand delivered the news, right before waltzing into the palace and slitting the Pharaoh's throat on his own fancy sheets. As the streets thrummed with bodies and laughter, he weaved through them seamlessly. He had one destination in mind this night, and he'd challenged himself to reach it.  
'He retires early during a festival in his honor. What a fine King.' The tone of sarcasm in his own thought was accompanied by a knowing smirk. He'd studied the Pharaoh as attentively as any loyal citizen could, though he was never shy of his motives when asked. 'I'm going to scatter him, as Set did to Osiris.' The idea was comforting, and he almost laughed as he imagined his priests trying desperately to reassemble the parts. It was his favorite daydream, the idea of killing the Pharaoh. Sometimes it almost replaced the smell of burning flesh and the sound of screams. _Almost_. He'd use the Pharaoh's blood to wipe the images from his eyes as he set his people free once and for all.  
The palace was heavily guarded even on a bad day, but the festival kept enough of the guards busy that slipping into the gardens was easier than it should have been. It was almost ironic that the entry point for someone seen as so vile by the Pharaoh was so beautiful. The grounds themselves were a paradise, the scent of fresh flowers gently passing through the air gave it an ethereal feel, and above his head was the sky in perfect view. The Thief briefly wondered what it would be like to lay under those stars, before squashing the wistful notion like it was a pest under his sandal. He'd have time to think of stars in the Duat, once his revenge was through. Such flights of fancy would be a welcome distraction before Ammit devoured him whole, and he held no illusions that his heart would weigh lighter than a feather after the blood of the Living Horus graced his hands. It didn't matter as long as his people were safe in the Field of Reeds, and if he accomplished that he would welcome the unforgiving maw of the Goddess.  
The walls of the palace stood tall against the flora, beautiful and imposing with thier painted stones. Most people would be awestruck to be standing where The Bandit King stood now, and he laughed to himself as he gathered the tools hed brought to scale the walls. He'd have his audience with the God-King of Egypt by force, and he lived for the look of shock and fear that he would surely afford him when he killed him in his own bed. He hoped he would try and scream so he could snuff out that breath with his own hands.  
Atem was tired. His body and mind felt years older than him, and the festival seemed joyless to him despite it's outward allure. He had felt something pulling at the corners of his consciousness for days now, and counting those days only served to make it worse. He was many things he needed to be, a fair king and a gentle hand; but the one thing he needed most he lacked entirely. Being an Alpha _shouldn't_ matter, he was a Pharaoh first, but he never could shake the memory of the fleeting disappointment on his father's face when he'd seen the results firsthand. _Omega_. The first Omega in any position of power ever heard of, and it was likely the closest guarded secret in Egypt. His heats were suffered locked in his room, and the only person allowed near him was Mahaad due to the indifference his status as a beta afforded him. He couldn't even speak with Set on those days, though he didn't think he wanted to. Set had presented as an Alpha, and though Atem should have been proud of his friend it only made his own prognosis feel worse. He sighed, toying with the cord of the puzzle; the weighted gold on his neck cold and heavy despite the heat from his hands.  
He was a God, Horus made flesh; and the people dancing in the streets were his people and wards. 'So why is it when I look at them I feel so detached?' This festival was on the eve of the day he'd been announced as an Alpha, and he couldn't help feeling like the idea that they were celebrating a lie made the whole thing meaningless. Sure, most people used it as an excuse to honor him for _all_ his accomplishments; and he would never deny his people a chance to celebrate.  
He waved away the thought with a delicate hand, as if it were a plume of temple smoke. From his position at the window he could look down into the streets into the throng of people below, and he imagined himself down there with them. In these fantasies he wasn't a living God or an Omega, but a man like the rest. He imagined dancing and drinking, wanting for nothing and trusting that the Gods would provide for him somehow. He imagined looking up at the palace walls and feeling hope, and immediately wondered if he was worthy of it. His people honored him, praised him, and he sat feeling worthless.  
"It's not as if I have nobody to talk to." He said softly, remembering lazy games of Senet with Mahaad and Mana, or walks out in the garden with Set. He had plenty of people in his court who would give him all the hours in the day to listen if he asked. The problem, it seemed, was the inability he had to tell them what was really wrong with him. It was too childish to mention you felt alone when you ruled an entire country, and even if they were aware of his secondary biology it wasn't as if any of them could truly empathize. He sighed, standing up from his place near the window and taking to his bed, removing the gold from his wrists and neck save for the heavy cord that held the puzzle in place.  
He never took it off even when he slept, save for one night when he'd first recieved it. He'd woken screaming that night, dreams plagued by shadows and demons that reached out to tear him apart. If he shut his eyes he could still see the images from those dreams, and he never wanted to be vulnerable to them again. He set the jewlery on a table near his bed, making sure they weren't in too much danger of falling off if he moved in the night.  
If his timing was right, he was almost garunteed to knock something off the table despite his best efforts. His heats had a cycle, and tonight marked the beginnings of his own personal hell. He could already feel the telltale coil of warmth in the pit of his stomach, his heart beating far too loudly for the silence in the room. He took a quick glance at the door, almost as if he was trying to confirm that he was alone. He'd normally have Mahaad posted nearby, but he'd sent him with Mana to enjoy the festival. His stubborn pride was all he had left, and he'd be damned if he didn't handle this heat alone.  
With a shaky breath he slid his linens off and approached the bed, one foot under the covers when he heard the noise, the telltale scraping of _something_ against the wall followed by a crash and a shatter, and as he turned towards the window to look he was met with the last person he ever wanted to see in his bedchamber; or at all really.  
The Bandit King moved like a shadow, perched on the windowsill one moment and gliding almost soundlessly to the floor the next, scarred mouth turned upwards in a cruel imitation of humor as the Pharaoh stood still. He approached like the worst sort of wraith, and for a brief moment Atem wasn't sure which man in this room was truly the vessel for Gods.  
"I'll have you executed." Atem said, attempting to find his composure somewhere in between the wide strides of the thief. "Killed by morning." he added, for clarity. His nakedness should have brought him shame, but he shoved it down to the edges of his thoughts. The situation was bad enough as it was, but a bit of godly nudity paled in comparison to going into _heat_ in front of a man who swore to kill him. Needless to say, he made sure his tone was threatening. The intruder only seemed amused, which was a real pity considering the effort it all took.  
The Bandit King chuckled, the sound somehow sounding both rich and rasped. "I'll be gone by morning, and you won't be calling _anyone_. Tell me, _My King_ , does my presence here strike fear into the heart of a God?" His words were sharp knives on velvet strings, pointed and cruel yet somehow still enticing.  
Atem frowned at the thought, almost backing up before deciding it would make the situation laughably worse if he faltered at all. "No, it does not. Nor do the stories of you, or the warnings I've heard. You don't frighten me, Thief." It was a chore to keep his voice level, and for some reason the thought that he'd been wallowing in his own self-pity moments before kept bubbling up in his thoughts. It was as if this intrusion was punishment for being ungrateful. That thought alone was what made him stay his ground instead of calling for Mahaad, because what sort of King couldn't deal with a simple thief by himself? It was a uselessly moot point that Mahaad likely wasn't in a position to assist even if he _did_ call him, and calling his guards potentially risked inviting alphas into a situation where they were certainly not helpful or welcome. The Thief King didn't need any of this information of course, and like hell was Atem going to offer any of it up to him.  
"Why have you chosen tonight to attempt my assasination? Aren't there more enjoyable things to do than trespass during a festival?" Atem gestured to the sounds filtering through the now broken window, trying his best to sound unimpressed. This man was unstable and dangerous, but if Atem could keep him talking then it would stay the knife that was destined for his throat by at least a few moments. It didn't bear mentioning that the coil of warmth in his core grew stronger by the minute, and his was starting to feel somewhat dizzy. If he could excecute his own body for treason, now would be the time.  
The Thief King threw his head back and laughed. "A festival that honors you, _My King_. What better night to spill your blood all over this room? Do you really think I'd be so stupid as to wait when your guards aren't distracted? You insult me, Pharaoh. Still.." He trailed off as if assessing the situation for the first time, truly looking at the man in front of him. It wasn't as if he was unattractive, kohl still framing narrowed red eyes, and a muscular build despite surely never seeing a day of work. He was short and delicate but still definitively masculine, and that ridiculous tri-colour hair looked soft despite the style it was in. Had they been different people, the Thief King might have complimented his beauty or even taken him to bed. Ludicrous, considering who he _was_ , and suddenly the fact that he'd been thinking about it at all irritated him to the point of frowning. "You're unfittingly bewitching for someone whose entrails are about to decorate his own bedroom wall. It infuriates me."  
Now it was Atem's turn to laugh, though the sound came out choked and bitter. "You trespass into _my room_ , threatening my life like a madman..." He paused, suddenly feeling the need to cover himself. The dizziness was suddenly overwhelming and he felt himself falling, reaching out towards the bed to catch himself so he'd at least have something steady to hold onto. He heard the Thief laugh, but he didn't dare look up at him. He could at least hold onto his dignity that way. Besides, he'd surely noticed by now that Atem wasn't normal, and it was only by the grace of the Gods themselves that it'd taken this long.  
"Get out before you find yourself dismembered in my stead, Thief." He ground the words out, covering himself finally with a sheet from his bed and using the hand that wasn't holding it up to brandish the puzzle like the weapon he knew it to be. Despite his flushed features he hoped he looked fierce, because he'd certainly sounded it. "Now." He added, for emphasis alone. He tried his best to make it commanding.  
The Thief King had stopped laughing the moment the Pharaoh put his hands on that gold. It wasn't fear that stopped him, but fury that he would even dare try to use the Sennen Puzzle at all. He could practically smell the blood of his people covering the damn gold, and here was this sorry excuse for a King trying to _threaten_ him with it. He took two steps forward, pressing the Pharaoh against the side of the bed with the intent to cause him to buckle backwards. "Do you have any idea who I am? Do you really think that's a trinket you're holding? Do you know _ANYTHING_?" Each question was punctuated by him getting closer to the Pharaoh, and despite his obvious anger the shorter boy wasn't fighting back like he should have been. It was when the Thief was almost on top of him that he smelled it, the sickeningly sweet scent of flowers underneath the myrrh of the Pharaoh's perfume oil. He immediately recoiled with something resembling a snarl.  
"You're an Omega!?" He would have found it in him to laugh if he weren't so dumbfounded by the sheer irony. The God-King of Egypt was an _omega_. He'd always thought that being an Alpha put him on par with the Pharaoh, but now that he knew he was above him it made his little biological victory even sweeter. His cruel smirk returned full force like it had never been gone. "Nobody has any idea what you are, do they? No wonder your threats are so empty. You're in _heat_." He leaned down to emphasize the last three words against the Pharaoh's ear, amusement doubling only when the other man literally _shivered_.  
Atem let out something between a hiss and a groan as he used the leverage offered to him by the other backing up to try and roll out from under the Thief, but he was dizzy and hot and his limbs weren't working like they should. " _Silence_. I'm still your Pharaoh, and you will release me this inst-" He was interrupted by a calloused hand on his throat, not enough to do anything serious except provide pressure and effectively stop him from talking. "You're all talk, aren't you? Everyone in this palace is nothing but talk." He pressed his thumb into the flesh, feeling the thrum of the Pharaoh's pulse underneath it. He had him right where he wanted him, it wouldn't be hard to kill him right here while he was dazed and needy; but why bother when he could thoroughly humiliate him instead? "Do you know why I know what you are?" He started, relieving the pressure from his thumbs while the other man took a sharp breath while he was able. "I can smell it on you. You're the Pharaoh, yes. Everybody blindly obeys you for you are the Living Horus... So what does that make _me_?" He laughed, releasing his grip on Atem's throat entirely just to prove his own implied point.  
Atem found himself briefly unable to think, the implications in the Thief's voice giving him all the information he needed to know. This man was likely to kill him, and in the briefest moments of contact he almost let him. Someone dangerously close to choking you shouldn't feel good, yet he was so lost in the feeling of being _touched_ that the loss of the hand almost made him groan involuntarily. It really only meant the Gods were cruel, because nobody but an alpha would have made his own body so traitorus. "It makes you arrogant, deranged, and severely committing treason. If my threats are empty, then yours are worse. Weren't you going to splatter me about my own walls earlier?" The defiance in his voice was tangible, and impressive considering how much his instincts were telling him to give in. Luckily for him, it seemed the Thief hadn't lost his mind to pheromones yet either. In any other circumstance he'd be impressed at how stubborn they both were.  
"I have a better idea, now that I know what I know." He dragged a hand lazily up the Pharaoh's bare thigh, mentally taking note of the softness of his skin and the small intake of breath he tried to hide. "Do you know what that is, my King?" He let his hand travel upwards slowly, teasingly, daring Atem to stop him and smirking when he didn't move at all. "I'm going to make you so lost until you're begging for me. I'm going to make you ache for the touch of my hands. I'm going to reduce the Living Horus to a subserviant _mess_. And you're going to let me, aren't you?" His tone had all but lost it's edges, all velvet and silk. Atem didn't know which of them he hated more.  
"In the end, you'd still be serving me. Do what you will, then." Atem's tone was purposefully flippant, slipping his eyes shut and turning his head to the side in a show of defiance. If he could play this in his favour then he would, and he wouldn't give the other man the satisfaction of thinking he'd won. If he wanted him to beg, Atem would keep his mouth shut. The Bandit King would have to work for his results, whether they were rooted in pleasure or pain. Atem didn't have to feel like he was losing a battle if he told himself he wasn't in the mood to fight.  
"If that's the way you choose to see it, then. All I see is your submission, and killing your pride is just as satisfactory as killing you would be... Tonight, at least." Neither of them were fully in thier right minds, the floral scent of pheremones weighed heavy on the The Thief King's mind as he fought to keep himself level. His hand hadn't stopped it's ascent, soft skin giving way to something hardened and heated, and he brushed a thumb over the head of it softly before traveling back down in one languid stroke. Atem let out a hiss of breath, arching his hips up before he could stop himself. "Straight to the point, are we?" That damnable hand didn't stop, and Atem let his hips rise and fall at a suitible pace with the strokes as he actually studied the man laying over him. His fingers were rough, and there was something intoxicating about watching someone else's hand between his legs.  
"Did you want this to feel like romance, _Pharaoh_?" The mocking statement drew him from his reverie, but the hand and his hips didn't still. "Of course not. Not from you. I'd be worried if you- Oh." Somehow in the middle of his sentence the thief had found the underside of his shaft to trace with a finger, up and back again before resuming his pointed strokes. "The next time you open your mouth Pharaoh, it'd better be to scream my name." Atem almost snorted despite the dizzying heat and the hand on his dick.  
Call his name? He'd never given him a name to call! "If you think I'd scream Thief in the throes of passion then you're a bigger idiot than we took you for." The Thief King stilled his hand contemplatively, but his smirk didn't waver. "Fitting, since I intend to steal something precious from you. But you can address me as Apep. From one God to another?" Atem scoffed, but it turned into a moan when the stroking resumed full force, and the hand that wasn't on him found his nipple in a shameless move to destroy any thoughts he had left to formulate. His mind was quickly succumbing to his heat, lost in the talented hands even moreso than he had been in his own every month prior. If this was what it felt like to let an Alpha touch him, he might start rethinking the way he'd been handling things. His breath was coming in small pants, body slick with sweat as let himself drown in sensation. It was gone as soon as it had started.  
"What are you.." He started, sitting up as he watched The Thief King rise off the bed and adjust any clothing that had gone askew. "Oh? Didn't I tell you Pharaoh? I'm going to make you crave me. I thought you were good at playing games?" He laughed, giving the flustered omega one last look before stepping up on the sill of the window to leave from where he'd come. He was halfway back outside before he turned back one last time. "Thanks for the collar, I'll treasure it." And then he was gone as if he'd never been there in the first place. Atem could barely believe the situation, and he was still aroused and dazed enough by his heat that the whole exchange left him wordless. He gave a fleeting glance at his side table as he tried to recover, realizing the intent behind the final comment. His collar had been stolen right off the stone. Realizing he'd been thoroughly bested he did what any well-adjusted Pharaoh would do; he screamed in frustration and collapsed against his sheets. If he found the company of his own hand tonight to get him through his heat, he would make sure The King of Bandits was the farthest thing from his mind.


	2. It happened in a dream...Mostly.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the festival weighs heavy on Atem in the form of internal screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Still laughably unbetad, still formatted wrong.

The silence was nothing but the sound of skin against skin, and he barely registered the hands had stopped when he felt _something_ press against his lips. When had they shifted positions? Had he been so lost that he hadn't noticed the Thief move off of him at all? No wonder Omegas were seen as shameful, he really felt the part.  
" _Open_." 'Apep' hadn't even bothered to disrobe, keeping to his air of superiority. His shenti had been lifted to expose his dick, and it was insistantly pressed against Atem's lips as he looked at him with smug expectance. Seeing the Pharaoh so wanton had made him harder than he swore he'd ever been, and the need to claim him was quickly bearing on overwhelming. Omegas really were spectacular, not that the compliment wasn't backhanded.  
"Don't make me tell you twice, Pharaoh." He brushed the head against his cheek, smearing fluid over tanned skin while the man below him gathered himself enough to glare. He wondered if he'd remember it long after washing it off? The Pharaoh slid his eyes shut again, something 'Apep' had long since realized was to hide his frusteration. _Gods_ , he wondered if he could get off on seeing that alone. He pressed forward again, saying nothing, and let out a breath when he was met with a teasing brush of the Pharaoh's tongue. Atem made a face at the taste of it, but that was the only discomfort he showed before relaxing his jaw to give the Thief free reign to slide past his lips.  
" _Ah_..Good." The commanding tone hadn't lifted even when he was affirming him, and Atem shrugged off the urge to bite down in a fit of annoyance. "No teeth, Pharaoh." 'Apep' chastised, as if he'd read his mind...  
Atem awoke with a start, the sheets bunched around him and every fiber of his body burning for the touch of those calloused hands. "This is rediculous." Atem said, his tone so heavy with frusteration it could sink a boat in the Nile with ease. It had been a month since his little meeting with 'Apep', where he'd been terrorised, harrassed, and clearly brainwashed into having recurring dreams that did not involve him arresting and detaining this man for his wrongdoings. Well, unless you counted the one from the night before, but now Atem couldn't even go into the dungeons without turning a nice shade of red.  
Atem narrowed his eyes, the memory of that smug attitude quickly overshadowing his biolgical needs. If the Bandit King wanted a game, then he'd get one. Even drunk on lust, Atem was damn good at games. It didn't occur to him that he was playing right into 'Apep's' hands, and the current state of his lower region made him entitled to a little brattiness. He reached down to give himself a light stroke, a soft moan leaving parted lips before the sound of knocking on his door interrupted him and made him curse under his breath.  
"Pardon me Pharaoh, I know it's early but you were due in the central chamber a while ago. Considering the time of month I thought it best to let you rest, but the others insisted." Mahaad's gentle voice should have been comforting, but Atem was still halfway hard and he could almost swear he could hear obnoxious laughter from the space near his right shoulder. Residue from his _nightmares_ no doubt. He shifted, forcing his voice to level.  
"I'm sorry Mahaad.. I know I have a meeting today with the scribes. Is it possible for us to do it tomorrow? I trust Priest Set to give them the information they need in my stead, he's very capable. I need to prepare for tonight." He paused, the idea of _tonight_ weighing heavy on the worst parts of him. He heard Mahaad shift from behind the door, but he didn't try to open it. "Very well, Pharaoh. Is there anything else you need?" Atem left out the bulk of his snark; Mahaad didn't deserve it. "Leave my hall empty tonight. I can handle myself. And can I put someone's head on a pike or is that barbaric?" The last part was meant to be a joke, but he doubted Mahaad would see it that way. He swore he could feel the Mage's concern through the door. "I..." Mahaad paused, as if he didn't quite know how to answer the last line of questioning, which to be fair he probably didn't. The exhasperated sigh from behind the stone was likely not a sound Atem was intended to hear in any case. "I'll arrange things with Priest Set. I hope you feel better soon." The sound of retreating footsepts followed swiftly after, and Atem couldn't blame Mahaad for making a quick exit. He'd have to apologize to him tomorrow somehow. Maybe something with fruit? He ran a hand through his hair, dismissing the thought for now. He had a game to win, and limited time to plan.  
The Bandit King had never been more pleased in his life. Nightfall had just begun and the collar he'd stolen the month before had fetched an incredibly generous price in a neighboring village. He'd really wanted to keep it, but he was planning on adding plenty more insults to injury that would more than make up for the loss of one trinket. It had been hard to stay out of Waset after the blow he'd dealt to the Pharaoh's ego, and harder still not to tell everyone he knew of the secrets he'd learned. Unfortunately stomping all over the pride of the Living Horus had a cost, and had he remained in any major cities he would likely be behind bars by now or worse. "What a childish King we have." He said to nobody in particular, but he imagined the night air agreed with him. He entered the gardens the same way he'd done the night of the festival, anticipating guards and finding a suspicious lack of them. He was halfway up the wall when the thought struck him that the Pharaoh was waiting at the top with a knife and all the missing guards, and he it took all his willpower not to laugh at the mental image. If he died tonight, he'd take the bratty god with him. If he had good luck, he'd do it naked. That would be _hysterical_.  
Atem was doing no such thing of course, unfortunately for his pride. He couldn't will the asshole king of alphas out of his head, so he'd decided to control the flow of what snuck into his thoughts instead. After all, it wasn't humiliating if he was _winning_. Also he still hated him. He'd tell him so, once he was firmly to the hilt inside him; _or something_. He ignored the obvious lack of impact his venom would have in that situation, and focused on making himself look at least vaguely vulnerable. He'd left his jeweled bracelets and anklets on despite his obvious lack of clothing, partly to seem more enticing and partly because he wasn't going to watch 'Apep' walk out with those too.  
"Honestly I hope he enjoyed the collar he stole, because it was sure to be the last thing he ever takes from me. I hope it looks rediculous on him." Atem muttered, too lost in his soft rant to realize he wasn't alone anymore. 'Apep' had heard the whole thing, and only chose to comment when he couldn't hold back his laughter anymore. "It didn't, but it sold well. I'm sure it looked prettier on you." Atem startled, but not enough to look visibly shaken. Instead he narrowed his eyes at the Thief, forgetting he was supposed to be coy. "I despise you, by the way." He said derisively, laying back against the sheets. 'Apep' chuckled, not even bothering with pretenses as he began to undo his shenti. "I'm sure I despise you more. But your hatred is evident, I can see it between your thighs." Atem shifted, sucking in a breath and sliding his eyes shut. "That's because I'm.. _Ugh_." He felt the bed dip as the other settled beside him, knees on either side of him with his now exposed flesh almost _too_ close. "I'd agree with your statement, but it really does feel like you intended to seduce me before you got dangerously petty, Pharaoh. Would it kill you to try and enamor me?"  
Atem resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The coil of warmth was already spreading through him at the obvious arousal of a familiar alpha, and he honestly thought it was better when the man was threatening to murder him. He could compartmentalize that at least. "Be enamoured then." He said, and eased himself up as to prove his own point, pressing a kiss to 'Apep's' exposed cockhead and letting it slide past his lips unhindered. Well, at least _that_ earned him a moan.  
He held eye contact with the other man as he let him think he'd set the pace, letting his tongue glide over the flesh in his mouth every time he shallowly thrust it past his lips. "Mm.. _Apep_.. I'm glad you came back.." He managed in the brief moment the other had pulled out; the ostentatious nickname weighing heavier on his tongue than the man's dick did for sure, but he made sure to sound as needy as possible.  
To his delight, it seemed he played to the other man's ego flawlessly; the Thief King pulled back entirely, giving Atem the room he needed to sit up and attempt to switch thier positions again. The differences between thier current states was laughable. Atem was flushed and nude, lips red from his ministrations. In contrast 'Apep' was nearly fully dressed, though his shenti was off and his breathing was uneven. Atem ignored the scars marring his chest and thighs, even out of his mind as he was he figured asking about them was a bad idea.  
"Let me?" He didn't wait for an answer as he crawled forward, putting a delicate hand on that scarred chest and pressing gently to indicate that he should lay down. He was met with a mocking chuckle and little else, but 'Apep' laid back against the pillows with little protest. ' _Now I have you. my move_.' Atem thought smugly, positioning himself in between the taller man's spread legs, to apply soft kisses to his chest. " _Ah_. There's the coy little Godling. I wondered when you'd try to turn this around."  
Atem ignored the comment to continue his affections, though the hint of mockery made him inwardly want to scream. He nipped at the skin as he traveled further down, gripping the other man's thigh as he kissed him lower still and just shy of where he actually wanted him. It earned him an irritated noise from the man below him and a hand wound tight in his hair, and it took all his willpower not to smirk before he relaxed his throat and took him to the hilt in one smooth motion.  
" _Oh_.." 'Apep' ground out, but his tone was shaky and the hand in Atem's hair had tightened considerably. He wanted to thrust upwards but the hand on his thigh was keeping him still, the Pharaoh's nails leaving little half moons where they dug into the skin. If the Thief King had been in his right mind, he'd have actually considered issuing the Pharaoh a point for being diabolical. As it happened he was too aroused to care. "If you stop I really will slit your throat, Pharaoh." His threat earned a small hum from the shorter man, and the vibrations on his shaft from the noise about drove him insane as he tried in vain to shove the other man further down onto his dick. Atem only dug his nails into 'Apep's' skin as a warning, bobbing his head and overall acting as if the man attached to the organ he was sucking on didn't exist at all. It was the small wins, really.  
"I'm going to finish down your throat and choke you with it." Crass, strained, and riding on a sharp moan; it was hardly a threatening statement. Atem wasn't willing to admit the idea was appealing, but his renewed vigor and increased speed probably gave him away. The hand in his hair tightened and held, and the Thief King managed to do little more than grunt before he was holding Atem's head in place and coming down his throat just like he'd threatened. Atem pulled back with a noise bordering on obscene, looking up at 'Apep' before easing up so he could be close enough to his ear that he could _hear him swallow_. To his merit, though some had escaped the sides of his lips; he wasn't choking. Small wins.  
'Apep' was looking at him like he'd grown an extra head. "You really..." Atem didn't exactly get a chance to mock his failing grasp of language before he was pulled against a broad and still very much clothed chest, one arm holding him in place while that other went straight for his arousal to grip it. Evidently the secret to breaking the control of an alpha was fantastic skills with your tongue. He'd have to file that away when 'Apep' remembered how much he wanted him dead. " _Ah.. wait_.." He managed, but the hand on him was already stroking him fast and hard, and he was giving in way too easily. He spread his thighs instinctively, falling back against him as he let himself just give up. It felt so good, even as clumsy and desperate as it was, and soon he stopped caring about the game at all. " _Gods.. Don't stop_.." He canted his hips up into that amazing hand, using the hands _he_ had free to roam across his own chest, pinching and touching in ways that he'd definitely deny later if he remembered it at all.  
He could hear 'Apep's breath against his ear, and his ragged breathing almost matched Atem's own. He was so close and so terrified he would realize that and _stop_ , but it was faster and harder and so much that when he slipped over the edge he swore he almost blacked out. He'd later recount that he'd never come that hard in his _life_ , and then vehemently deny it. He rode out his orgasm into that calloused palm, feeling an odd sort of peace that he attributed to sex in general, feeling Apep move away from him as if he'd been stung and being entirely too sleepy to protest. He thought it was mildly suspicious that he wasn't met with mocking laughter, but maybe he was _just that good_. His sleep that night was dreamless, and when he would finally drowsily come to in the morning, 'Apep' would be long gone.  
"Pharaoh...?" He started awake for the second time, but this time it was to the eternally irritated tones of Set's voice. "Why don't you knock?" Set didn't dignify it with an answer, and blissfully resisted making a comment on the state of the room or the Pharaoh himself. "You're needed. The meeting yesterday was postponed until now. I take it you'll be fine from now on?" Atem forced himself fully awake and looked to his high priest with a raised brow. "What do you mean?" Set had the dignity to look uncomfortable and somewhat like he'd eaten something sour. Without words, he made a gesture to the side of his neck, which Atem mirrored. It was then that he felt it, a raised, thin, scarlike bit of skin near the junction of neck and shoulder. A bonding mark. During the night, Apep must have bitten him. Suddenly it hit Atem all at once, why Apep had left so quickly, why he'd slept so well... He groaned, and put a hand to his forehead. "Yes, I'll be down soon. Please send them my regards." Set gave a curt nod and excused himself as quickly as humanly possible, and once the door was shut Atem took less than two minutes to bury himself in his pillows. _Evidently_ , screaming in frusteration was his new favourite thing.


End file.
